Comedy & Commentary Podcast – posted Wednesdays

Year: 2015

This week: Pyra gets spooked by an earthquake, gets another hibiscus tattoo, gets gets unreasonably irked by decor items with words, and can’t resist the siren song of a Victoria’s Secret clearance sale.

Also: Attack of the Bieberbots! Christmas bonding over calling Pawn Stars people morons! And a few Twitter hashtags.

This week, Pyra walks face-first into a door (no, really!); bakes cookies as an equal and opposite reaction to going to the gym (the cookies are winning); gets called a Nazi by a retard (and reads the blog about Trump that sparked the whole thing); and reviews/rebuts the worst sex book ever written and says the words “vag,” “boobs,” and “cum” a lot (you’re welcome!)

PS: no more rock news in this show, but cheer up – Pyra’s starting a new show this weekend called “The Rock n Roll Blather Show” with nothing but rock news!

This week, Ozzy insists no one wants to hear new Black Sabbath music, Blabbermouth commenters try being helpful when discussing how Vince Neil wastes water in San Francisco, Bret Michaels spitballs about who Poison will open for on a hypothetical future tour while Bobby Dall gets promoted to “sorta fuckable,” and we learn why Nikki Sixx always makes everything about Nikki Sixx even when it’s not.

Also: Pyra gets her jam space all nice and hospitable, tries to dance with a buggered-up post-tattoo arm, buys crappy records at the thrift store, and gives teasers about upcoming video stuff.

Plus: the top earning rock bands of the year and a purse that matches Pyra’s new tattoo.

This week: Stryper claims to be bigger rebels than their fellow 80s rockers; Nikki Sixx needs attention; rumors now say the Guns N Roses reunion isn’t happening til 2017; Ronnie Wood’s gonna be a dad again, so his grandkids are looking forward to a new baby uncle or aunt to play with; Scott Weiland dies of a heart attack at 48 and his bandmates get busted for coke possession, yet Mrs. Weiland insists it wasn’t drugs.

This week: Slash plays the national anthem with some band geeks; Richard Fortus gets along great with the guy who signs his paycheques; Kiss turn their own damn noise down with an acoustic set; the Pope releases a prog rock album, sorta; Compressorhead needs a robo-singer, T-Pain need not apply; David Lee Roth’s surprise reunion with his old solo band gets squashed by the fire marshalls; some dude Pyra’s never heard of gets his Mötleys confused and calls Nikki Sixx a fat has-been; and Skid Row just aren’t comfortable with Sebastian Bach, OK?

Also: how to fall off a chair while looking like you meant to do that and other lap dance class foibles; Pyra theoretically learns to twerk; Pyra goes to the Comedy Shocker and The Vampire Bats at the Rickshaw; and Rolling Stone claims psychedelic microdosing is the latest business performance boosting trend, fact checking be damned!

This week, Dave Mustaine is looking to sell his house to “the right buyer” (real estate speak for “full price or f— off!”), 1969 Velvet Underground concerts get released, the Foo Fighters have a free EP that they didn’t even force you to download, Foreigner announce tour dates and skip Paris, Duff McKagan talks funk groove jamming, and Great White rise from the ashes to start working on another new album.

Also, Pyra chats about seeing Public Image Ltd. live and complains about the anachronistic anti-Christian songs and Johnny’s jazz improv rhythm stylings (side note: wrong rhythms make Pyra’s skin crawl). She also waxes rhapsodic about the wonders of stripper heels and rambles on about the importance of musical cross-fertilization.

Plus: “technical difficulties” is a funny way to spell “Pyra screwed up” and six months is amazingly efficient for bureaucrats.

Lots of ranting about the Paris atrocities and media malpractise as the journalists insist this has nothing to do with Islam and the French edition of the Huffington Post even suggests climate change is to blame.

Also: U2 decides Paris has suffered enough and cancels their show, Marilyn Manson isn’t so brave against non-Christian zealots, Robert Smith looks possessed by the ghost of Andrea Dworkin, Metallica plan to keep touring til they go senile, and the latest rumors say that the classic Guns N Roses reunion will only be 40% more classic than Axl’s current band.

Plus: Charlie Sheen has HIV, a blog about obsessive junkies, and jokes about emergency contacts for pole dancing class.

This week: the Rolling Stones are polishing up their walkers for some new tour dates in 2016; whatsisface from Linkin Park is no longer in the Stone Temple Pilots; Richard Fortus’ NYC condo is up for rent; and a special Guns N Roses Christmas t-shirt.

Plus: Pyra bitches about her dad’s guilt trips and his conviction that every little ache and pain is a sure sign of terminal cancer that he won’t go get checked out anyway; decides to get cover-ups for the tattoos she wants to get rid of; starts doing more music stuff again; and tries and fails to remember how an old Merlin song goes.

All this and a lame suburban fitness classes inspired by Animal from the Muppets.

On this week’s show: Nikki Sixx doesn’t see any purpose in making new Mötley Crüe tunes after the final tour; Ozzy says no to a new Black Sabbath album, but yes to a new show on the History Channel; bad-at-math Bret Michaels says Poison will do something special for their 32nd anniversary next year; Motorhead booze brands continue, this time with a beer; and Gilby Clarke wants to remind folks that he’s totally available for any potential Guns N Roses reunion.

This week, Dave Mustaine’s daughter wants to be the next Shania Twain or Dolly Parton, Vince Neil has done everything on his bucket list, Slash’s new album is 90% written, and you can now buy your very own plastic Doro Pesch figurines.

Also, Pyra doesn’t shop much for once but instead talks about her WASP superpower, rants about an a creep who once tried to get her in a headlock to kiss her, and whines about Halloween candy.

All this plus some weird and wonderful GNR eBay finds and a stained glass window where the baby Jesus watches you shit.